


Virgin's Blood

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Dark Castle, F/M, Flogging, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, PWP, mdom, woobie!dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:18:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle knows better than to snoop.  Really, she does.  But some books are worth snooping in, even if she maybe gets more than she bargains for when she finds the one Rumpelstiltskin keeps in his bed chamber where he thinks she can't find it.</p><p>Dark Castle mdom and I'm not sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onthekarmapaymentplan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onthekarmapaymentplan/gifts).



> My bff asked for Rumbelle MDOM BDSM for her birthday, and I decided I wanted to make it longer than a one shot. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> I hate that I have to do this, but apparently I do. If you're reading this fic anywhere besides AO3, it was posted without my consent and likely profited someone else. Please consider [donating](https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_donations&business=CZNGXGNP4PRX4&lc=US&item_name=The%20Mantis%20Fund&currency_code=USD&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF%3abtn_donate_SM%2egif%3aNonHosted) or swinging by my Tumblr (standbyyourmantis) to let me know what you thought!

Belle was too curious. Really, that's all there was to it. She'd been warned about this a thousand times before – don't snoop, don't read the books kept in people's nightstands, don't go wandering around private areas. Of course, she had discovered that the things she found out by _not_ listening to that advice was usually well worth the trouble she got into.

So, of course, what had she done the moment she moved in with the dark sorcerer? She had snooped. And where had that gotten her? Locked in a dungeon.

She still maintained that it had been innocent dusting – at least to begin with – that had led her to this. How was she to know, after all, that the Dark One kept his erotica on that particular shelf? Even he had seemed surprised to see it there, though perhaps not as surprised as she had been to find it while airing out his bedchamber. It hadn't occurred to Belle that lovemaking between two people could look like, well, _that._

Two hours later, he'd come to inquire after the whereabouts of tea and found her completely engrossed in the text (and also the illustrations – those were very...engrossing). She had started at his sudden presence and dropped the book to the floor, where it had landed open to a particularly lewd drawing. It had been impossible to deny what it was she had been looking at, what with the blush she knew stained her cheeks and the full color picture of the couple in the midst of a particular act she wouldn't have thought would be quite as enjoyable as the drawing seemed to indicate.

Rumpelstiltskin had looked at her and she had looked right back, the horror she felt on her own face plainly visible on his. She had been on the verge of blurting out something about how it wasn't what it looked like (unless, of course, what it looked like was that she was reading his collection of erotic materials in which case it was exactly what it looked like) when he waved a hand and she found herself standing in one of the dungeon rooms alone.

She tried the door and found it locked. Brilliant. By the time she got back upstairs she was certain the book would be gone. She scowled at that – it had really been a most educational tome. Belle had never seen anything quite like it before. It was full of illustrations of things she hadn't ever dreamed of. There were women being spanked on their bare buttocks, men tied to beds, people having sex in all manner of positions and...orifices.

More surprising even than the knowledge gained from her all too brief time with the book was her body's reaction to it. Belle knew the facts of life in their most basic form, but she'd never really experienced more than a vague curiosity about them before now. She'd never felt the stirring of lust towards anyone, making it incredibly easy to hold onto her virginity as long as she had. Now, though, lust had been kindled and she needed _more_ of whatever it was in the book that had awoken this beast inside of her.

She felt a strange pressure between her hips, and it felt like she was on fire. She should probably be bothered by this new sensation, but instead she just felt an insatiable curiosity. She wanted to find out more. Was this what led women to fall? She couldn't get the images from the book out of her head. It had never even crossed her mind to want something like that.

Oh, gods, she had to get herself back under control. At some point, she was going to have to face Rumpelstiltskin again and at that point she couldn't let him know that she'd been affected like that. What would he think of her if he knew? What did he think about her _now_ knowing that she'd been reading it so intensely?

She really shouldn't be focused on the book, but she still couldn't get the ideas out of her head once they had been planted there (another of her faults, she would fixate on things). What would it feel like to be so totally at the mercy of a man? She couldn't off-hand think of anyone she would trust enough to find out, except perhaps for Rumpelstiltskin himself. He'd had every opportunity to hurt her if that's what he'd wanted, but instead he'd been kind and generous – indulgent, even. And now that _that_ image was in her head, it wasn't going away. She was stuck on the final image she'd seen, the one that the book had fallen open to (the one it was most often turned to?) which showed a woman bent over a wooden rack with her legs spread and a man behind her and...oh she couldn't even think about what was going on. It was too much, and she needed to wait until she was alone in her room where he wouldn't bother her before she thought too hard on it.

Just think normal thoughts, she decided. Laundry, cleaning the oven, sweeping. Normal, everyday activities that certainly wouldn't involve being naked while she did them and he watched and oh _gods_ not again.

 

Rumpelstiltskin had been lurking outside the door almost since he sent her to the damn dungeon (after, of course, hiding that book where he was reasonably certain she couldn't get to it). He hadn't meant to send her there particularly, he'd mostly panicked and wanted her away as quickly as possible.

How had she even found that book? She must think he was completely depraved for even having it, much less keeping it where it could be found. It's not like he had meant for her to ever see it. He'd been alone for a long time, after all. Men had needs, and he was still a man in every way that mattered (well, in _that_ way, at least) – he still had the same weaknesses and temptations.

He wasn't really sure what to say to her now, trapped between the competing impulses to reassure her that he hadn't brought her here for that and to leave her there until he forgot how embarrassed he was. This was going to be a disaster either way. He took another couple of minutes to breathe deeply, preparing himself mentally to face her (as well as the very real possibility that she would want to leave) and to plaster the smiling imp over his nerves.

She jumped back at the sudden noise as he swung the door open, and he saw the fear in her face – heavy breathing, racing heart, pupils dilated. She was terrified and she was going to want to leave. Damn him for even getting attached to her.

“Well, dearie,” he chirped. “It seems we need to have a talk about boundaries.”

She swallowed hard but nodded in agreement anyway.

“Such a terrible idea,” he teased her. “Invading the monsters lair. What _were_ you hoping to find, anyway? A way out?”

She didn't answer right away, so he kept staring at her, hoping to make her uncomfortable enough to be on the defensive. She looked strange, now that he thought about it. Granted, he'd never seen Belle afraid before – the closest would be the forced bravery she'd had when he first dealt for her – but this didn't look like fear on closer inspection. Fear was usually a little bit more...jumpy (Belle was bordering on lethargic) and it didn't often feature glistening pink lips parted invitingly, or the soft blush that dusted her chest.

Oh. _Fuck._

It hadn't even occurred to him that she might have enjoyed the book. Rumpelstiltskin was suddenly forced into the uncomfortable realization that he had to figure out how to handle this now. He could leave, pretend he hadn't noticed her arousal, and possibly take a memory potion. He could also dose _her_ with the memory potion, but that wouldn't take care of his current problem which was that she was looking at him with some strange mixture of emotions that was bordering on desire. It had been a long time since anyone had ever wanted _him_. Power, gold, favors...yes. But not him.

“What are you going to do to me?” she finally asked, her voice just a little breathless, a little faster than he was used to.

Oh, he was about to make a stupid decision.

“Well,” he trilled as casually as he possibly could. “That depends on you, doesn't it?”

“It does?”

He crept closer, warily watching her to see her reaction. At the first sign of resistance he was going to put her right back in her father's throne room and call the deal even. She was watching him closely, but there was no fear on her face. Instead she seemed...intrigued. He waved a hand absently, pulling two cuffs out of thin air and holding them in front of her. Her eyes darted down towards them and settled there. He was on the verge of pretending like it was a joke and sending her away when her tongue darted out and swept across her bottom lip as her eyes slowly drew back up to his face. Oh, he was completely sunk.

It was the work of seconds to have her hands bound and chained over her head, leaving her balanced on her tiptoes. She let out a sharp gasp, and stumbled a little bit but caught herself, staring at him in open-mouthed shock.

“You just wait here,” he said as flippantly as he possibly could while untying his cravat and binding it across her eyes. “I'll be back in a little while to see if you've learned your lesson.”

Belle nodded, but didn't make any other sounds beyond the little gasps of her breath. He had to get out of there for a minute and calm down, and a wave of his hand sent him back up to the great hall to pace. He needed to figure this out. This was Belle, after all.

Was the book cursed? Maybe she had a spell of some sort on her that he could cure. But no, he hadn't sensed any particular magic and that tome wasn't even very old and had been in his possession for most of that time. He would know if it was cursed – he knew every scrap of magic in this castle and there was nothing wrong with that book.

Could it be she liked that sort of thing? Poor, innocent Belle wanted to be tied up and abused when all she deserved was soft caresses and gentle loving. And what of the oaf she'd been about to marry? Would he have understood these desires in her or would she have spent her life not knowing this part of herself?

Was he seriously trying to convince himself what he was about to do was okay? She was a virgin (which had come in mighty handy a few weeks ago when he needed to borrow some of her blood for a particularly finicky spell), and Rumpelstiltskin was old and tired and monstrous. He should send her away now, he knew, but he had always been selfish and if there was a chance that she might want this...

Oh gods, what was he going to do?

 


	2. Drawn Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belle learns some new things and Rumple scares the shit out of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know how many more chapters of this I'm going to do. At least one or two because I have so many fucking ideas, you guys.

Belle felt like she was on pins and needles. Her skin was prickling and burning and aching for touch. She was strung up at exactly the right height so that if she stretched all the way she could keep her feet flat but not comfortable. If anything, the discomfort added to her excitement by not letting her forget her current situation. She couldn't decide if she wanted Rumple to return or not. She wasn't sure what would happen when he did, but whatever it was she knew she _needed_ it more than she'd  ever needed anything before.

She let out a desperate little whimper  seconds before he appeared before her in a puff of smoke. She'd been expecting him, but he still startled her with his sudden arrival. She couldn't really jump away from him, though. She jerked back as far as she could go, torquing her shoulders painfully. She must have let out some indication of her pain, because suddenly he had his  hands on her shoulders and was pulling her back to an upright position. His  fingers made her tingle where they touched her skin, and almost as though he could read his effect on her, he yanked himself away quickly.

“Have you had time to think on your offense, dearie?” he giggled. “Prepared yourself for...punishment?”

She was pretty sure that she was completely prepared for punishment, simply because of the way that  her skin  ached at his words.  There was a part of her that wanted to back out, to beg forgiveness and run to her room and hide her wantonness and her embarrassment where nobody could see. She couldn't let that happen, though, because if she did that she knew neither one of them would ever broach this subject again and she needed desperately to know what it was that had woken within her even if it was s omething she also feared.

Not trusting her voice,  Belle bit her lip  and nodded as calmly as she could manage as she stared up into his strange looking eyes. He seemed more agitated than usual, and she realized he was just as terrified by this ne w level their relationship was gaining as she was.

“Ah, uh...good,” he said finally, his mask of bravado slipping for just a second. “That's good.”

He snapped his fingers and something appeared in his hand. Belle hadn't seen anything like it before. It  had a leather handle like a whip, but rather than one  long strand of hard leather it was made up of several smaller strands that looked softer. He didn't do anything with it right away. Instead, he toyed with it, letting it swing lightly so she could see how the straps moved. He swung it softly towards her lower legs, letting the leather brush against her calves and Belle thought she might scream simply from the sensation of touch on her overstimulated skin.

“Now,” he said darkly, coming to stand directly in front of her. “We wouldn't want to ruin your dress, now would we?”

“No,” she managed to force out when he seemed to wait for an answer. “We wouldn't.”

His hands went to the waist of her skirt and paused there. Belle looked up at him questioningly to find him looking down at her curiously.

“If you want me to stop,” he whispered, his voice entirely serious. “Just tell me. At any point, just say the word.”

He didn't move his hands away, but didn't go any further, either. He merely waited, and she realized he would make her ask for this. He wouldn't continue unless she told him it was alright.

“I don't want you to stop,” she replied as soon as she could find her voice again.

He nodded, sliding effortlessly back into his role as domineering master of the house as he unhooked her skirt and let it slide down her legs to pool at her feet. Next, he unlaced her bodice,  jerking the cording through the eyelets until it gaped open at the front and could be pushed back off of her chest. He unlaced her stays as well, letting those fall with her skirt and leaving her standing in nothing but her thin chemise to cover her from his eyes.  She could feel her nipples tightening both at the cool air of the dungeon and at the lust in his eyes as he dragged the leather cords up her thigh on one side, before placing his hands on her hips and turning her to face the wall.

She thought he'd strike her right away, but he didn't. Instead, he stood behind her so close she could feel his breath ghosting across the back of her neck as he dragged  the leather cords up her legs and across her shoulders. She shuddered where it brushed against her bare skin,  tantalizing and teasing her with the warmth of the leather.

After awhile,  she felt him move away and prepared herself. He didn't hit her hard, though. He was swinging the leather against her softly, wrapping around her legs. It didn't hurt, but the tips of the leather stung a little where they snapped against her skin – it was strangely erotic. She'd never known that pain could make her  _want_ so badly.  She felt like she was melting, and she'd go insane if he didn't touch her. She needed more, and she needed it now.

 

Rumpelstiltskin  was pretty sure he was about to go insane. Belle was squirming and keening and making these erotic sounds each time the flogger struck her. At first he'd thought he was hurting her, but he was barely touching her and that is  _not_ what a woman in pain sounded like. It may have been awhile since he'd heard those noises, but they weren't the sort of thing any man forgot.

He gradually increased his speed, though not his strength. She was writhing against her bonds with a thin sheen of sweat  breaking across her shoulders. He'd never seen anything quite like this and he was struck with the nearly uncontrollable urge to fuck her against the wall. He shoved it down nearly as soon as it arose. Monsters shouldn't ravish virgins in dungeons, no matter how delicious they looked when they cried out.  He was painfully hard now, but he didn't dare touch himself. He had to maintain some kind of control here, or he was liable to go completely off the rails. She was trusting him, and he needed to be worthy of that trust.

“Rumple,” she whined, her voice thready and higher pitched than he'd ever heard it. “Oh, gods, Rumple...”

“Yes, dearie?” he replied teasingly. “I can't understand you.”

She made a little gasping noise in her throat and he increased his pace with the flogger, drawing out an even needier sound.

“More,” she panted. “Please.”

“More what?”

He knew he was tormenting her, but he couldn't help it. This wasn't something he'd ever imagined in his most fevered dreams and he intended to enjoy every second of it.

“I just...”she whimpered. “I just need more...I don't know. Please.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” she replied. “I need...something.”

He felt a little bad for her,  because he knew what it was she needed, but at the same time he knew he had every intention of giving it to her  soon .

He stopped whipping her suddenly, and he heard her cry out in frustration at the lack.

“Touch me,” she begged. “Please.”

“ Oh, if you insist...”

He stepped up behind her, dragging his fingertips across the back of her neck gently. She shuddered and arched back towards him, pressing herself into his front. He took the opportunity to slide his hands down the neck of her chemise to cup her delicate breasts in his hands. She was squirming and trying to get more friction. He pressed his nails into her flesh and dragged them up a little, making sure to scrape them over her nipples. She was shaking with arousal at this point and he knew it was a matter of time before he was going to have to do something to alleviate her  arousal , but he would make her beg for it first.

“ What do you want?” he whispered into her ear as he began to pluck her nipples with his fingers under her chemise.

She didn't reply, so he pinched her a little bit, which pulled a yelp from her.

“I don't know,” she replied, beginning to curl in on herself. “The book...”

Ah yes, the book. The thing that had started all of this. He could quote that book backwards and forwards if he needed to, and he knew there were things in it that would have shocked her virginal sensibilities. He spun her around again, fully intending to perform one of those things now. He didn't dare touch her directly as he knelt before her. He wanted to draw her out further, see how far she could go before she burst. The same impulse that would have a child pull the wings off a fly drove him to drape her knee over his shoulder, exposing her to him completely.

“Yes,” she sighed, apparently thinking that he would finally give her what he knew she was craving.

She was to be disappointed, though. Rather than paying his attentions to the place he knew would drive her over the edge, he instead slid a finger gently into her dripping core. She nearly screamed at the sensation, though  experience told him  it wouldn't be quite enough to drag her over the edge. He slid in another finger and scissored them, hoping to stretch her out before what would come next. He was careful not to touch the places within her that would drive her to orgasm as he worked. She was bucking her hips instinctively trying to find enough friction to bring her off but he carefully avoided that.

Finally, he picked up the flogger where it had been discarded on the floor and slid  the handle into her quickly. She gasped in what sounded remarkably like relief at the direct touch and he let it remain in her for a moment, smooth and warm and filling.

“What do you want, Belle?” he asked her, rubbing his palms up her thighs to cup her beautiful ass gently. “Tell me.”

“I need something,” she panted. “Please, Rumpelstiltskin. I need more. Touch me.”

The sound of his name on her lips was all he needed to hear. He withdrew the flogger before pushing it back into her firmly. She made a delightful little squeaking noise when he did it, so he repeated the process over and over and over again, reveling in the panting and the moaning of her being so close and so wet for him, but still not quite where she knew she needed to be. 

“Rumple...” she whined, and in response he brought his fingers up and pinched the bundle of nerves that he knew would draw her out.

Belle screamed and her body shook as the orgasm he'd been denying her all afternoon tore through her at last. He continued the steady thrusting of the flogger, watching in awe as she shivered through the last of the aftershocks. He couldn't help himself, now. He continued his thrusting and teasing her clit until she suddenly shook again with another orgasm, not quite as violent but this one seemed to be longer. He had missed hearing his name in her passion, and he dragged another one out hoping to hear it again. When this third one didn't result in what he wanted, either, he pulled the flogger out and tossed it aside, thrusting his fingers in and curling forward to draw out a fourth and fifth right on top of each other.

“Stop!” she finally cried from above him. “Please, I can't take anymore.”

He hadn't realized how far he'd pushed her today until he looked up and saw the bright red flush of her cheeks and the sweat soaking her chemise. She was completely overwrought and it was all his fault.

He leapt to his feet and took a step back, untying her with a snap of his fingers and sending both of them to his room. He'd have taken them to hers, but he never went in there, preferring to keep her private space intact.

There was a bath already waiting for her and he helped her strip down before lowering her into it. Once she was settled, he rose to leave (and possibly take care of a rather pressing problem in his trousers) but her hand snaked out to grab his wrist before he could take more than a step away.

“Don't go,” she said softly. “Please, stay with me.”

What could he do with that request besides acquiesce?


	3. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She won't let him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I am physically incapable of writing a non-woobie Rumple, so please enjoy woobie!dom.

Belle had felt a little faint, but the tub was reviving her. She wasn’t sure if it was the heat or the water or that the blood that was now in her brain had at one point been elsewhere, but all she’d known at the time was that she didn’t want to be alone and that he’d caught her when she almost fell.

He was so gentle with her now, a far cry from earlier, and she should probably be surprised but somehow it all still felt right. He’d gotten a rag from someplace and was rubbing the water across her aching shoulders. She’d felt so tense earlier, and now the tension was draining from her and she felt limp, like a puppet with its strings cut. She was so tired, but she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to be with Rumpelstiltskin, and when he’d tried to leave her it had been too much to bear.

They didn’t speak, but she was too worn out to speak. She wished idly that he was in the tub with her, because really all she wanted was to curl up against him like a cat and forget the whole rest of the world for a little while. Outside of this room, she was still the maid who had found a naughty book and he was the master who had defiled her in the dungeon and those were things that would need to be dealt with -- but not yet. She’d promised him forever the day she left with him, although it hadn’t occurred to her then that ‘forever’ might not be quite long enough. If she ever left him, she would be well and truly ruined now. That thought should probably bother her, but instead she just felt safe. She’d be here forever, and this was exactly where she wanted to be.

She didn’t know how long she sat in the tub while he bathed her (dragging his ridiculously puffy sleeves through the water as he did it and getting his leathers wet) but eventually his hands began to wander again and she was surprised how soothing it was to have them moving over her nipples and between her legs in a manner that didn’t tease, but instead provided gentle echoes of what had come before.

“Are you alright?” he said after awhile, ghosting his fingers across the sides of her breasts, and she wondered if he was even aware of it as he did it. “Not...sore?”

She thought for a moment, pressing her legs together just a bit to see, but no -- she didn’t feel any discomfort at all.

“I feel perfect,” she said with a smile. that she knew was dangerously coy. A quick glance down told her everything she needed to know -- he was still unsatisfied.

“What about you?” she asked, dragging a finger along the bulging leather. “Does it hurt?”

He made a strange little strangled noise and his skin colored in a little blush that told her all she really needed to know.

“N -- no,” he stammered. “It’s...it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” she said softly,  leaning out of the tub a little bit and pressing her palm against him.

He hissed sharply, his head falling back a little.

“My water’s gone cold,” she said, standing up and letting the water run down her body. “Will you help me out?”

He nodded, producing a towel and wrapping it around her gently. It was warm, but the air meeting her damp skin sent goosebumps down her body. She tucked the towel around her chest, and leaned forward, pressing her damp body against his. He was so tense, even as his arms tentatively wrapped around her back.

“Will you stay with me, Rumpelstiltskin?” she said softly. “For the rest of the night, I mean.”

She didn’t just mean for the rest of the night, but she didn’t think he was quite ready to hear anything else just yet and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to say it.

His fingers were twitching against her back nervously, but she simply waited. He needed time to gather himself and she wouldn’t push him too far.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I will if you want me to.”

“I do,” she replied. “I don’t want you to go.”

It was hard to believe this was the same man who had held her chained in his dungeon less than an hour ago, but yet here she was practically having to drag him to the bed to lay down beside her. Gone was the monster and his blustering confidence, all that remained was the man -- timid and gentle and shy.  She would have to be his guide here, just as he had been hers in the basement.

So Belle took him into the bed, turning the sheets down with as much professionalism as she could muster while clad only in a towel, which she shed before climbing under the covers. He went to follow her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Your clothes are soaked,” she reminded him and he seemed to notice for the first time the water that had soaked into his sleeves and ruined his trousers. “Take them off?”

His eyes were wide, and he looked like she’d asked him to eat ground glass, but eventually he relented, shedding waistcoat and shirt and trousers until he stood before her in only his smallclothes and she decided not to push the issue further just yet as he climbed into the bed and curled up behind her naked body.

“Rumple?” she asked, pressing back against him. “Wouldn’t you like me to take care of you?”

“Not tonight, Belle,” he whispered, one hand ghosting across her breast. “Don’t worry about it.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She had always had a curious mind and an eager disposition, and when she’d settled on something she could be single minded in her focus.  Belle had settled on Rumpelstiltskin, and she wanted him.

Sleep, however, would outwit her this time. Perhaps it was magic, and he was trying to put her off of him, or perhaps her overwrought body was only now finally coming to terms with the stress it had been under. Either way, she felt herself slipping away from consciousness locked in his embrace.

 

She was on his arm and he couldn’t get away. Not that he wanted to get away, exactly, but he wasn’t sure how to stay here. She’d asked him to stay, but he couldn’t for the life of him decide why. He’d surely sated whatever lust had overtaken her, so why did she want to keep him close now?

While she slept, he took the opportunity to examine her. Long lashes brushing against pale skin, and auburn curls spread across her pillow and his arm. She was beautiful and delicate, and he that he had not yet defiled her completely was a technicality that would matter to no one. He should have sent her home, he never should have tried to keep her with him. Even if he sent her away now, nobody would want her. He was a poison that had ruined her for civilized society, regardless of the fact that she was beautiful and kind and intelligent.

He should have sent her home, but he hadn’t. So now he was brushing the hair back from her face and tracing the curve of her arm down to the curve of her waist and her hips. She was warm and vibrant, how could she even be real?

He was struck with the intense urge to kiss her, but refrained. He didn’t want to wake her when she was so peaceful, or to risk breaking whatever spell it was that had convinced her to accept him like she had. Had it just been lust, or had there been something else? She had asked him to stay, after all, and that had to mean something.

He didn’t know why he’d done what he had in the dungeon. He had been so weak, and he wasn’t sure how he’d forgive himself (or expect her to forgive him) for that. She was his caretaker, and she was under his protection, and he had taken advantage of her confusion and her body. He was no better than the nobles who kept concubines anymore.

Belle stirred a little in her sleep, and Rumpelstiltskin stopped his slow caresses and lay his head down behind hers. He would let her rest. She’d had a traumatic day, after all. There was no reason to push her to leave sooner than she’d want to, or to hide too much from her. She would likely be gone soon enough, once she realized what he’d done. He wouldn’t stop her, either. He’d never stop her from leaving if she wanted to.

They all left eventually, after all. Everyone had -- his father, his wife, his son...she would go soon enough. Everyone he loved did.

And since when did he love Belle?

 


End file.
